


the ink on your arms stained my heart

by grandstander



Category: RWBY
Genre: M/M, Nonbinary Scarlet, Trans Character, the sage/scarlet is p minor
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-04-07
Updated: 2015-04-07
Packaged: 2018-03-21 19:11:04
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,409
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3702719
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/grandstander/pseuds/grandstander
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Everyone knows roses are symbols of love. Sun Wukong is very much aware of this with, you know, the whole being an employee of a floral shop and all.</p>
            </blockquote>





	the ink on your arms stained my heart

**Author's Note:**

> inspired by [this artwork](http://papanorth.tumblr.com/post/99943938366/i-drew-this-on-an-assignment-in-school-and-dow-was) and [this comic](http://papanorth.tumblr.com/post/100019703031/so-you-dont-want-a-tat-no-i-want-go-to-a) by papanorth on tumblr  
> i know this is an old thing / trend, but ya know
> 
> (not very satisfied with the ending but whatever)

Everyone knows roses are symbols of love. Sun Wukong is very much aware of this with, you know, the whole being an employee of a floral shop and all. 

The main thing is, though, that there's a difference between being aware of that fact and then starting to think that it, well... makes sense. 

Sun is an employee of a floral shop, having a certain knack with plants and having learned the small art of color and floral meanings. He has become rather skilled at pulling bright, blooming buds together with softly colored paper and ribbons and bringing shy smiles that bid budding confidence in their buyers. Many of those who come to the shop are those with some kind of love in their heart-- love for their parents, their siblings, their partners, their friends; this place is a garden of pleasant feelings and smiles and love. 

With such an occupation, it was expected he learn the accepted meanings and significance of each kind. So to speak, he studied them as purely information-- literal knowledge. It had no meaning other than just words on a screen, or a simple answer to a question. Things get a little more complicated, though, when they make sense. When you feel them. Maybe it wouldn’t be so bad if it were just about daises or daffodils, but now, roses of all things-- the deep red roses that are everywhere in every motif of love, those roses that are in every nook and cranny on Valentine’s day. When those damn things start to really mean something to you, you’re fucked, and they start really meaning something to Sun Wukong when he catches a blue haired guy by the name of Neptune Vasilias on his lunch break. 

His skin is a deep, tan color-- it’s beautiful, really. Sun’s skin is no where near pale, but Neptune is darker, and his hair is the brightest blue that sometimes it looks like it could blend in with the sky. His voice is smooth and well-rounded, eyes a deeper blue that could almost be mistaken for black in poor lighting. What Sun loves most, though, are the intricate patterns and lines of ink along his arms, pieces of the skin-staining artwork poking out beneath the collar of his shirt and curling around his neck. 

In the occasional talk they share in the afternoons or in the evenings when they close up their respective shop, Sun has notices piece of flowers on his arms, aimless patterns, birds, anchors and rows of blue that resemble waves crashing on the shore. All the time he wants to touch them, pull Neptune’s arms closer to him and just stare at every piece of the tattoos on his skin. He wants to trace them with his fingers, wants to see the pieces of the artwork on his body that are hidden beneath his shirts. 

Sun also wants to kiss Neptune; god, does he want to kiss him. His heart soars when they talk, his smile stretching so wide when he sees Neptune that his eyes early disappear in their creases. Neptune always grins at him in return, laughing a bit and waving before he disappears into the tattoo parlor across the street. And Sun bubbles quietly with some kind of joy as he arranges the pots and, with extra care and more smiles than usual, prepares bouquets and waters the vegetables and fruits. 

From Sun’s perspective, he doesn’t have it too bad... he’s not that lovesick or whatever, but from an outside perspective, he’s sicker than a damn fool. He’s absolutely dripping with warm colors and smiles, you might as well take a picture of him and put little stickers of hearts and bluebirds around him and they wouldn’t look out of place. It makes Sage sigh heavily and his broad shoulders sag in a slight frustration-- of course, though, of course it has to be the new tattoo artist his own partner had hired. 

It’s why the shops were so close, after all. Sage and Scarlet were something like high school sweethearts, but they weren’t sweethearts until college, per say. Nonetheless, Sage finds more... annoying probably isn’t the best word, but the little hearts that might as well be popping out from around Sun are a bit much as far such a somber, calm person is concerned. Of course, though, he is not rude-- his parents did not raise him to be, but he does mention it to Scarlet when they are home during the weekend, because Scarlet sure seems more tired than they’ve been in a long time. As soon as Sage begins to mention it, Scarlet blows air out of their nose and immediately mentions how Neptune’s been somewhat star-eyed and a little dazed the past two weeks, which obviously does not please them.

Poor Sage, though, seemed to get the worst end of the two love birds. Sun was pining away like he depended on it, his tail was curling frequently and he all but bounced around the little indoor garden. He was absolutely smitten, and stole many-a peeks out the window for the blue-haired tattoo artist. 

Sage and Scarlet are all but patient, though, as they went through the same thing more or less (they don’t talk about it, but Scarlet had gotten the love sickness even worse than Sun had it now, if you could believe it; it’s a tale Scarlet tends to hide with blushed cheeks and a quick dismissal). Sage is the kinder of the two, his partner preferring to let the two make of it what the will, while the taller was a little keen on at least moving it along; the flower shop might drown in quiet romance if it did not. He is gentle in his speech, of course, voice deep and calm like a cool breeze at the height of spring. He mentions it to Sun in passing, both their hands buried in pots of soil at the time, that he seems to have taken an interest in an employee across the street from the tattoo parlor. 

Sun almost breaks out into a sweat. His heart jumps in his throat and he finds no words on his lips, something unusual for him as he was quick to speak and retort most times. Sage takes note, a quiet hum as his own response, mostly to keep himself from laughing a bit-- though he wouldn’t dare, it’d just make the poor faunus nervous and defensive. It was endearing, nonetheless. Sun’s tail has wound itself tightly around his own body, ears pink and lips pulled inward as if he was looking for something to say, to explain. He was debating on talking about his feelings, but that wasn’t his forte. A strong hand pats his back, and the green haired man raises to his feet. 

“It’d probably be better if you just asked the guy out on a date, rather than just act like you’re in high school pining away for him.” Sun looked completely baffled by the proposition, almost thrown off by it-- sure, he’d pondered it before but how could he simply ask Neptune Vasilias out on a date! Neptune Vasilias, a man who works art onto bodies and has three degrees, a man who’s eyes look like the surface of a pool in the summer and who’s skin is such a warm color and who is always so patient and kind when Sun rattles on and gets obnoxious. Neptune, Neptune who is nice and funny, who laughs even when Sun makes fart jokes and sometimes his eyes light up when he starts talking about things he loves, like scuba diving and hip hop music.

And Sun wants to punch himself for having it so bad. This was horrible and dreadful and possibly the worst thing he’s ever done to himself; he would not wish anyone the torture of having a crush. No, it wasn’t a crush; it was much more than a crush. Sun wanted to kiss Neptune, sure, but he also wanted to hold his hand and sit in the quiet with him, he wanted to take Neptune on roller coasters and yell at the top of his lungs with him as they jumped off the edges of short cliffs into the ocean. He wanted to live every waking moment of his joy with Neptune. He takes a deep breath, his fingers finally stopping and pulling away from the plant he had been re-potting, fingers now dirty and laying lazily on his tattered jeans shorts. 

“Yeah, you’re probably right.” Immediately, he seems displeased by saying something like that out load, rubbing his dirty palms over his face and letting out a quick exhale as his brows pinched together. It was one thing to admit he should just ask Neptune out, but Sun has no clue on how to go about doing it; absolutely none. 

It was about another two weeks Sun spent trying to figure out what to do, and when. Should it be something big and grand or casual? Neptune seemed like he would like something more casual-- at least that’s what Sun figured (and hopes, cause that would be much easier, and he wouldn’t be as nervous). He waited, thought and thought, until he became frustrated by himself and muscled up his big strong self, and all those dumbass feelings and said “fuck it.” 

On his lunch break, Sun darted out the door, a piece of paper in hand as he jogged across the street, briefly pausing to collect himself before entering. He inhaled and exhaled, eyebrows setting low on his face in determined for a passing second, than putting on his usual sly grin and waltzing into the tattoo parlor. Neptune is at the counter, and he’s the first thing Sun seems, and immediately his knees get a little weak and his heart beat quickens and he wants to melt right there on the floor. It gets worse, though, when the taller man looks up from the appointment records he’s looking through, his expression going from casual to elated in no time. He grins, voice low but there’s an obvious tone of happiness in it when he speaks. “Sun! I haven’t seen you in ages, dude!” 

Sun laughs, his own lips spreading wide as he leans over the counter and returns the hug Neptune seemed to be expecting, with his arms outstretched and all. He pats the slightly thinner boy’s back, bowing his head forward just briefly to bury his nose against the exposed skin of Neptune’s neck. His smile grows even more, eyes closing for a second but he pulls away, composing himself and putting on his usual debonair facade. “Yeah! Sorry! Just been so busy, ya’ know?” He tried to play cool, and his voice is doing the trick, but the tip of his tail is twitching just slightly, so he curls the end of it up tightly, like a ball. 

Sun is about to go on and carry his grand scheme, but Neptune intergects, obviously his own handsome mysterious tattoo artist show melting away a bit. “You’re here kinda early, though-- what’s up? It looks like Sage’s store is still open.” Sun looks over his shoulder at the large sign of the floral shop, his smile still on his face and the end of his tail still curled tightly to keep from giving too much away, then turns to Neptune to answer him. “It’s my lunch break! I ditched it t’ come see ya’.” 

Neptune laughs, a losely curled fist hitting the blond lightly in the upper arm. “You idiot, you’ve got to eat!” Neptune half-scolded him, but it’s not like Sun could take it to heart, with the blue haired man smiling so much. Sun rolled his eyes, head cocking to the side a bit as he leaned forward with his elbow resting on the counter. “I am lyin’ a little bit, though. I wanted to ask you about something.” On of Neptune’s brows raise, the other still setting low so that he seemed to be giving Sun the most skeptical look he could give with a small smirk on his face. “Hm? And what is it, then, you sneaky monkey?” 

Sun has to stop a laugh that starts, shoulders shaking, but he clears his throat and again assumes a calm and dashing expression. “I would like to purchase a tattoo-- of this--” the small slip of paper he had been holding earlier, now pulled from his pocket held between two fingers is held outwards towards the tattoo artist. “Mr. Vasilias.” By the time he’s done, his smile is wide as can be, toothy and small creases next to his eyes, looking as proud of himself as he could possibly be. Neptune, though, still looks skeptical as he pulls the slip of paper from between the faunus’ fingers. 

“You want a tattoo, huh?” 

“Yes!!” 

Neptune looks down at the paper, handwriting that seems to look more like Sun writes in all caps saying “wanna go out w/ me?” with a smaller “-SUN” down below it, along with a doodle of an actual sun. Neptune looks at it a little harder, and although Sun was considerably proud of himself, the blue-haired man was taking his request quite literally-- and therefore, was rightfully concerned. “Are you sure you want me to ink tha--” 

Before Neptune can finish his question, Sun interjects, his skin glowing a bright pink color against a soft brown and his voice having gone up several levels of volumes in his nervousness. “--No you doofus I’m asking you out!!” There’s a touch of a blush against Neptune’s cheeks as well, laying the hand with the slip of paper down on he counter while the other scratched the short hair at the back of his head. “So you don’t want a tattoo then?” he asks, and Sun gets slightly more embarrassed, though his voice isn’t as loud as before. 

“No, I want you to be my boyfriend.” Immediately, the tail that had been curled into a tight ball at the end uncurls and curls slightly around his waist, the tip flicking back and forth while no longer making eye contact with Neptune. Neptune laughs a little bit, a smile returning as the hand at the back of his head comes around and covers his mouth, looking in the direction opposite of Sun. 

“You could of just asked that from the start, you know.”


End file.
